


Starcraft: Swapped

by Siar



Category: StarCraft (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, F/M, Genderbending, Genderswap, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siar/pseuds/Siar
Summary: Sam Kerrigan has a hard time getting along with Jessie Raynor... Series of oneshots set in genderbent universe





	1. Impractical

"Speed will be crucial to this next mission." said Kerrigan, pointing to the holographic map as Raynor twiddled with her short hair.

"Uh huh"

Sam flicked his eyes to Jessie's own half-lidded eyes for a brief second before continuing. "Like we discussed already, I will infiltrate their defenses while cloaked and kill their commanding officer. You need to attack their base during the confusion while they're trying to fix their chain of command."

"Right"

There was an awkward silence until Raynor realized Kerrigan had stopped to glare at her. She shrugged "What?"

"Can you stop thinking about _that?_ " scolded redheaded guy. He tapped his finger to the map. "This is a serious operation. Stop being a pervert and focus on the mission."

"Aw it's all fine, Sam" drawled Jessie. "You know I've already got this mission all under control. Ain't no need to be a prude when we're off-duty."

"A prude who gets the job done." retorted Kerrigan, his crisp practiced speech shooting down Raynor's own rugged voice. "I didn't become a top ghost by drooling after girls. If I were a woman, your shameless ogling probably deserves to get sued."

Jessie Raynor chuckled, removing her cigar between her two fingers. "Sam. I'd wager you wouldn't react any differently if our respective genders were flipped. I'm just that charming. Besides, it's sociably acceptable for a woman to admire a guy's build. If you cared so much, you ain't ought to'be wearing a ridiculously tight suit."

Ghost leaned in, hardening his firm glare. "Well... this 'ridiculously tight suit'... is ridiculously tight for practical reasons."

"How so, Ginger?"

Sam Kerrigan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now you're pushing it. I already told you before: the suit provides agility and mobility necessary for stealth operations; it's much harder to cloak armor pieces than nano-fiber."

"Well lucky me then." She said with a smirk. "I'd reckon whoever patched that suit up was a woman. I mean... the suit just so happened to capture every glorious curve of that ass.. or your legs... or your delicious eight pac-"

"Oh my god..." interrupted the redghead ghost, planting a facepalm with an audible smack. "You're always 'accidentally' touching my ass and chest. Ever heard of personal space, cowgirl? You know, I thought men were perverts, not women. Why are you so... hungry?"

Woman snorted. "Okay, Sam. I dunno what they taught you in your cute and cozy ghost school. This cowgirl's gonna teach you a fact of life: everyone's perverted. It's just that guys aren't expected to be upstanding angels of society. Me? I ain't afraid to hide my thoughts and feelings behind a mask."

Sam sighed wearily as he crossed his arms. "Jess. I didn't get to allow these thoughts to roam my mind as I trained at the Academy. It's all about fighting, winning, _surviving_! Any other distracting thoughts can get you killed." He cast a hard look to his partner. "Like you. I still can't believe you _actually_ let your guard down just to cast a hungry glance my way, and almost got killed in that Confederate ambush."

She offered a weak smile as she recollected that scene, and pointed to him. "Okay. I admit, that was mighty foolish of me. I should have double-checked to see if we fully secured the area from pocket resistance." Her smiled widened into a toothy grin. "Were you actually gettin' all worked up about me?"

Young ghost coughed awkwardly. "Marines have statistically high death rates."

The cowgirl chuckled. "It's fine if it's because I'm a woman at the front lines. Try not to think too hard. If the man in the armor dies, someone's gotta get in there and do all the fightin'."

Raynor felt a warm feeling swell in her chest when she actually saw and heard Kerrigan _laugh_ at her words. "It's too bad you don't have psychic powers. You're always making me worry with your reckless knight-in-shining-armor routine."

"I figured a lady would fit that role just fine."

Sam leaned his tall body closer to Jessie, who simply stood still and continued to stare with her bold smirk. The redhead stared with his conflicted eyes, before cupping Raynor's chin in his hand and pulled her in for a kiss. She was already ready to return the intimate gesture.

Their lips remained locked for a few precious seconds before the ghost pulled away. "You know cowgirl... you can still depend on me to cover you"

"And I'll watch your rear end _really nicely_ , partner."

Kerrigan nodded and smiled in satisfaction. They would watch each other's back through fire and hell, just as they've done since the first time they met.

And he instantly wiped that smile from his face. "Oh. I see what you did there. You pig!"

Raynor laughed.


	2. Bar brawl

**In a world where Tychus hasn't yet been sent to prison by the time of SCI...**

**"** Come on, Jessie." slurred Tychus.

"No," Raynor responded calmly.

"It's just a one night thing. You can rest assured I'll rock your world."

"No."

"You owe me, partner."

"What'd you think the answer's gonna be?" Raynor smirked, sipping on a glass of beer. "Sorry buddy. I'm just not interested in your roidin' build."

"Bah! I shoulda known better. You're too busy chasin' after that ginger toothpick!"

"Maybe I just have a type, Tychus. That, or he holds a better conversation than you," she joked lightheartedly.

But Tychus was not amused. His red flushed face hungrily eyeballed the lax cowgirl sitting beside him. "That ain't a real man, Jessie. You should be droolin' after beasts like me! It's men like me who protects the women in this hostile backwater frontier."

"That's what you like to say." Jessie Raynor let out a mock sigh. "Look, if you're going to tell me who I should like, you're wastin' your time."

"Am I? How about I go on over to have a little 'chat' with your precious Sam?"

This managed to catch Raynor's attention, who turned to stare back. "You think you can take on Lieutenant Kerrigan?"

"I know I can. You just watch me!"

 

* * *

 

Kerrigan was dutifully cleaning his rifle when he spotted the bulky blue armor of Tychus Findlay enter their section of the bar.

The ghost never liked Tychus, having read his mind and discovered all the crude, violent, and vulgar thoughts that constituted a true scoundrel personality. He was just so unsavory. That was especially true for all the lewd thoughts he held for Jess... Fortunately, the commander had Tychus all under her control, so there was little reason to worry. Why waste time picking a fight with the brute?

But as for why Tychus was approaching him now...

"Tychus. You're in your suit off-duty," he noted.

"Damn straight," Tychus punched his palm. "I'm here to put you in your place. Just look at you, some psycho weirdo who cowers behind even the women, fryin' brains with creepy powers like a coward."

"And you think I won't do the same to you if you don't leave now?"

By this point, everyone in the bar was attracted to the confrontation between the giant and the enigmatic ghost. Raynor just watched from afar, shaking her head with a wry smile. _Just like typical boys._

"Then that just proves my point, wouldn't it? Without your mind powers, you're just a thin, girly boy pretending to be a man, charming Jessie with your looks."

"Are you saying I can't interact with Commander Raynor?"

"I'm sayin' you should bugger off! No need to worry about Raynor, she's a big girl that can take care of herself, unlike you. You wear pansy suits, go screw yourself and let her have a real man."

Sam just stared blankly. "Mr. Findlay. As your Lieutenant, I cannot believe we are having this conversation right now. Get out of my sight before you're court-martialed."

"What'dya know. You're actually scared. I bet I'll kick your ass anyday without your cheatin' powers. You take orders from a real man!" With a drunken roar, Tychus barreled towards Kerrigan, who rolled aside as his chair was completely smashed and everyone distanced themselves whilst calling and cheering."

"Alright, fine." scoffed Kerrigan. "Now I'm entitled to kick you to the ground." He then shrugged with open palms. "And I won't even use my 'cheating powers'. How's that?"

Tychus swung down his arms for ghost to dive around. His lithe opponent jumped off a table and kicked the top-heavy marine, sending him stumbling and crashing against the metal wall, leaving a sizable dent.

With an enraged growl fueled by the experience of countless bar fights, Tychus continued his brute approach, picking up one of the tables and chucking it at Kerrigan, who weaved and dodged with ease.

Tychus switched tactics, closing the gap to throw one devastating punch...

...which Sam easily side-stepped, and that punch left Tychus' exposed visor wide open for Kerrigan's counter-punch, which crashed into the scoundrel's nose with an audible crack.

Pain and warmth blossomed over Tychus' face. The giant stumbled dizzily, then fell over when his balance collapsed from that one punch blow.

The crowd cheered their badass Lieutenant, who stood tall in victory over his defeated opponent. Raynor strolled over and whistled, "Had your fun?"

The young, muscular guy flicked his eyes to the commander. "I suppose."

"You knocked him out with one punch, you sure you didn't cheat a little?"

"Not really, it's all a matter of physics. I guess Mr. Findlay didn't expect a solid punch to the face."

"I figured that's why he brought his suit. Why don't you run along while I clean up the mess?"

"Thank you, Commander." said Kerrigan politely in the presence of the crowd. With the fun over, everyone went back to their usual business, leaving Raynor to plant her boot on the chestplate of a stunned Tychus.

"Now you see why..." she jabbed her thumb sideways. "I like him." She looked to the bartender who was gazing back expectantly, then back to Tychus. "And you're cleaning up this mess, partner."

She returned to her beer bottle, leaving the dazed scoundrel lying on the ground.

"Uggh... a little help?.. Medic?.."


	3. Mind problems

Novus sat with a serious, half-frown expression as he waited in the passenger bay of a ship transporting him to another mission. With him was a fellow ghost and a squad of marines.

Yet something was bothering him. What was bothering him? The squeamish mortification of the younger ghost next to him, who tried to turn his beet-red face to avoid Novus's gaze.

How ridiculous...

"What's wrong?" interrogated Novus.

The young ghost jumped a little, and he answered. "Oh, uh. Nothing."

"You're embarrassed," said Novus bluntly, knowing that would stop him from beating around the bush, and repeated his question again. "What's wrong?"

"I... Uh- It's just... what the ladies are thinking about."

"Oh. That?"

"Yeah."

Novus looked to the female marines who formed half the squad. They were gossiping and looking towards him. He knew what thoughts festered in their minds and rolled out of their active tongues.

"You're embarrassed that they're having sexual fantasies about me." he stated blankly.

"Y-yes."

"So?"

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Why would I be embarrassed? How come you're the one getting affected by thoughts involving me?"

The young ghost just stared at Novus in confusion. These women were gazing through guy's skintight hostile environment suit to imagine what his muscular build would look like without the breastplate, or the suit, or any clothes on the hot, blonde young man. Indeed, their imaginations were delving far and wide into the realm of unbidden sexual scenarios...

Did the young ghost really want to imagine Novus in _that_ light as well? He spluttered, "I'm just not used to reading thoughts like that."

Novus scoffed. "Are you serious? Don't get too surprised, kid, thoughts like this occur all the time in everyone, everywhere. If I acted like you whenever a woman imagined me eating them up or vice versa, I would never get shit done. What do you expect me to do? Hide in some corner sucking my thumb?"

"What if you were a woman, and a bunch of men were looking at you the same way?"

"Same thing, kid. Why should I give a shit? Life's tough, you can't worry about such silly things."

"Oh." The older ghost did have a point. "That's true... I guess I just don't see that a lot at the academy."

"If it weren't for psi-screens and the tough mental training, the academy would be far worse. Cram a bunch of young teens and adults together, and what do you think goes on in their heads? Trust me, I've been there and done that. Even when I was just a trainee, I didn't give a shit. You'd be surprised how frustrated people get in the academy."

"I don't talk to people a lot."

"Maybe that's why you're kinda late on this." Novus glanced to the gossiping women again. "You want to know an easy solution?"

"Really? How?"

Novus smirked and hollered to the women. "Hey ladies, you know I can read your minds, right!?"

The young ghost saw their faces turn as red as tomatoes and felt their utter mortification burn in their minds. He couldn't help but chuckle.

Novus crossed his arms, "You see? Nothing worth stressing out over."


	4. Bonds

**2504, Second Great War, Hyperion Cantina**

Raynor's head felt like a spike was pinning her skull down to the table she sat at, but nonetheless she continued to take a sip from her beer.

She watched as Swann happily played with a young 4-year old boy, a highly unusual sight on the rugged, rebel capital ship. The child's hair was red, just like his father...

The rebel commander took another sip. Damn those nightmares...

As of now, the dwarfish engineer was content to let the child curiously examine his hydraulic claw with awe, celebrating with primitive baby speak that almost sounded like he was trying to talk. Swann then turned to Raynor. "Hey Cowgirl. How ya doin'?"

"Doing just fine, Swann." droned Raynor.

"Damn, girl. You look like a total mess."

"It's too bad women don't age as well as men," said Jessie. True to her word, her face was already covered in wrinkles, make her look at least two decades older than her 34 year old self. Her hair was also unkempt and left to grow in its matted layers "I bet I'd still look mighty charmin' if I were a man. Just imagine the beard, Swann."

"Y'know. Maybe you should lay off the sauce, get some shut up for that beauty sleep."

"Whatever, pops."

"I'm serious, Hotshot. I mean, ya can't always be like this for ya kid. Parents shouldn't become alcoholics."

" _I know._ Just... let me think. Okay?"

"Anyway, I think Martha wanted to talk to ya. Uncle Swann's gonna tuck the little guy to sleep, unlike _someone_."

Woman's patience was growing thin, "Now you're pushing it, Swann..."

 

* * *

 

Martha Horner was checking the maps and planning their next move. That is until somehow, her estranged husband Miles Han managed to force open a video call.

A sharp chinned, blue-haired man with a cybernetic eye started with his trademark coy smile. _"Martha! At long last you finally decided to answer my call. Forgetting your husband was very rude!"_

"Not this again..." hissed Horner. She snapped back. "I'm busy right now, Miles."

Han's suave voice continued, pretending to be taken aback, _"Too busy for your beloved husband?! How could you say such a thing! A mercenary warlord has many responsibilities to attend to, but at least he would have the decency to maintain contact with his wife."_

Horner grimaced as she felt the eyes of the entire bridge awkwardly watching the marital exchange. Han was definitely attractive by Horner's book, a charming man on the rough side, but that never changed the fact that she had an image to maintain and a job to do. A top leader of a ragtag rebel group can't be seen with an amoral, lawless criminal man who keeps stalking her with constant spam calls like a creep.

She's going to wring the neck of their communications officer.

"Not now." She reached for the button to end call.

_"Wai-"_ The call ended.

Horner sighed, but quickly corrected her hairdo as Raynor entered the bridge, "You wanted to see me, Martha?"

"Ma'am," said Horner. She spoke in a hushed voice to avoid attracting the bridge's attention. "I want to talk to you about Mike."

"What about him?" said Raynor with a frown.

"You've been drinking a lot, not to mention busy leading our men in the thick of battle. You don't seem too inclined on self-preservation either. If you die, your son will be motherless."

"I know..." admitted cowgirl. "I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I don't know where else he can go if I'm gone. Mengsk'll definitely go after him if he catches wind and gets the chance."

"So what are you going to do? Do you have a back up plan?"

"Yeah, I got a back up plan. It's gotta be you."

"Me?" said Horner with a weak smile.

"You're a good person, Martha. And if we're ever going to have a future when Mengsk is finished, you'll be alive and leading these people. I'm not askin' you to be his mother, but I trust you to take care of him if I'm gone."

"Of course, Ma'am. You can count on me."

The wrinkled lady offered the first smile in months. "Thanks buddy."


End file.
